These poems written of my love for you,
I've been sending them for 15 years straight
And there's still no reply,
and there's still no reply
"A Clingy Boy Sticking for 15 Years"
Lyrics / Song: Manbo-Dead-Behind-the-House-P
The first year, I was reckless
I wrote each and every day without fail
I licked stamps with insistence,
sending you my heart's spit
The second year, I was still reckless
Even my house being set ablaze wouldn't catch my attention
In fact, my clothes caught fire from below,
and by the time I noticed, only the collar was left
In the third year, I calmed down
I'd already reached the limits of literature
I publicized my mixi journal,
and my favorites maxed out the counter
In the fourth year, I wrote for a magazine,
and I branched out into social issues
I decided to release a poem compilation,
and I quit being a salaryman
These poems written of my love for you,
I've been sending them for 15 years straight
And there's still no reply,
and there's still no reply
By the fifth year, I was a pro poet
I captivated women 20 to 34
But since I was so earnest,
I saw other girls as inexperienced pansies
By the sixth year, my body was ruined
I'd already passed 2,000 poems
Not a bone hadn't been broken,
not an organ hadn't been damaged
In the seventh year, I was in perfect form
So today, I'll compare you to something
Perhaps you're like extreme ironing
Perhaps you're like a compound inner product space
Even in the eighth year, I didn't change
So today, I'll compare you to something
Perhaps you're like winning every match in 16 sumo tournaments
Perhaps you're like an AMPA glutamine receptor
These poems written of my love for you,
I've been sending them for 15 years straight
And there's still no reply,
and there's still no reply
On the ninth year, I had an accident
Apparently I suffered quite a blow to the head
And though I'd forgotten my own name,
I remembered only that I loved you
Through the tenth year, through the eleventh year,
my memories didn't return
And yet, I loved you
All I could want was your reply
Through the twelfth year, through the thirteenth year,
my memories didn't return
But I still loved you;
that was all I had
Even by the fourteenth year, they still hadn't come back
Every day was frightening and uneasy
I just wanted a glimpse at you
I just wanted a word to you
In the fifteenth year, my memories returned
I remembered everything, and burst into tears,
because I remembered...
that you died 15 years ago
These poems written of my love for you,
if they kept piling up, would they someday reach you?
Into your former room,
I threw them each and every day
Just because I can't see you anymore,
that won't keep me from loving you,
but I thought we'd meet again
and you disappeared again...
These poems written of my love for you,
I've been sending them for 16 years straight
And there's still no reply,
and there's still no reply